Friday, November 11, 2011

no norman rockwell around this house, and THOSE ARE NOT BOO BOOS!

I don't know what goes on in your homes. I am picturing Normal Rockwellish scenes of little ones playing with wooden blocks by a roaring fire while hubby sits in his overstuffed chair reading the paper and a large non shedding dog sleeps peacefully at his feet. You, in your apron, offer your sweet husband a drink while you scoot your clean faced children to the sink to wash their hands before you all settle in at the table for a well balanced home made meal. Very little of that happens in my home, although I do frequently wear an apron...

This is what happens in my home. I overheard this conversation this morning in my bedroom. Both boys were standing on our bed, the tiny toddler wearing only a diaper. A little back story - for the past few days my little guy has been asking for band aids because he has suddenly discovered his nipples and seems to think they are boo boos. He keeps pointing to them and saying "boo boo." No amount of explaining that those are, in fact, not boo boos has done any good.

Today I gave up and walked away to brush my teeth. When I walked back into the bedroom I see my big four and a half year old has taken off his shirt and is pointing to his own nipples. "Alex, they are supposed to be there. See, I have them too." The tiny toddler is not convinced. "That?", he says, pointing to his brother's chest. ("That" is what he says when he doesn't understand something. He points to the object of his confusion and says "that?".)

"Alex, that is how God made us. These are not boo boos."


"Alex, I told you. You are not listening. No one knows why God gave us these. No. One. Knows. They are not boo boos."

"That? Boo boo!"



"I DON'T KNOW WHY WE HAVE THEM ALEX! They didn't explain that in the potty video with the naked baby who dances."

At this point in their mixed up conversation I had to walk away. never in a million years would I have thought I would one day witness my son referencing the Once Upon a Potty DVD. Not once.

My big four and a half year old then walked up to me, shook his head and said "Mommy, there is no telling that kid anything."

Yes, we are very far from Norman Rockwell around here, but we certainly have a good time!

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